


Memories

by Chrystel Malfoy-Potter (moon01234), moon01234



Category: Criminal Minds, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crime Fighting, F/M, M/M, Magic, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-07 10:46:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon01234/pseuds/Chrystel%20Malfoy-Potter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon01234/pseuds/moon01234
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TRANSLATION </p><p>Harry has lived in Las Vegas during his childhood, neighbor and friend to Spencer Reid, but a magical accident forced him to move and the Ministry to erase his friend's memory. Twenty years later, Harry, having become an Auror at the Ministry of Magic of the USA, is assigned to the BAU and meets, once again, Spencer who has already started to remember a little boy with green eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue : Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Markhal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markhal/gifts).



> Metis is the French word for Mestizo meaning "someone from a mixed heritage".
> 
> My Beta is "ariel's love". So, when she arrives on this site, please give her thanks since most mistakes would not have been avoided if it wasn't for her. =)

**Title :** Memories

 **Warning :** M, will contain mentions of abuse, of torture and of violent murders. There will be equally mention of Slash (love between men) in the future chapters. The Harry Potter story will be following the books up until the fifth book. After that, my twisted mind will completely transform the rest as well as his childhood with the Dursleys. If this bothers you, don’t hesitate to stop reading this story and go find another fanfiction!

 **Summary:** Harry has lived in Las Vegas during his childhood, as a neighbor and friend to Spencer Reid, but a magical accident forced him to move and the Ministry to erase his friend’s memory. Twenty years later, Harry, having become an Auror at the Ministry of Magic in the United States, is assigned to the BAU and meets, once again, Spencer who has already started to remember a little boy with green eyes.

 **Couple :** Harry/Morgan

 **Disclaimer:** Neither Harry Potter, nor Criminal Minds belong to me. *sniff*sniff* Whyyyyyyyyyy? T_T

**Personal disclaimer: I don’t own “Memories” since it belongs to the wonderful french author Markhal. I’m doing a little personal homework for the upcoming exams. One of my exams is a translation from french to english (and vice-versa).**

**This story rocks so not only am I studying for my exams, but I’m putting up one of the most incredible stories that should be shared in the English world. So, please, tell me what you guys think and I will pass on the word to the author who is worthy of all praises.**

**Anyway, please enjoy the story as I slowly translate the first ten chapters, then as I wait for an update of the author.**

**Prologue : Sweet Dreams**

An arab proverb says: “The truth cannot be contained in a single dream, but a dream can contain the truth.”

**-CM-HP-CM-HP-**

_I was sitting on the porch of my house with a book on my knees. I pushed back_ _the_ _glasses on my nose and carried on  reading._ _This_ _was the seventeenth time that I was reading this book but it was still as good as the first time. Thanks to my memory, I could recite it word-for-word, but nothing could replace the_ _feel_ _of paper, the weight of the book in my hands, the leather of the cover between my fingers._

_“OUT, BOY! AND DON’T COME BACK AS LONG AS YOU DIRTY THIS HOUSE!”_

_I grimaced as I heard the neighbor shout_ _ing_ _again_ _. He was a horrid person. I didn’t like him at all even if my father would claim the contrary_ _;_ _that he and his wife Petunia were ‘adorable’. I found it difficult to appreciate people who spend their time screaming but nobody apart from me and my mom seemed to_ _dis_ _like them. I waited for a couple of seconds, to be sure that_ _the_ _man was truly gone. Then,_ _putting_ _my book down,_ _I_ _rush_ _ed_ _to the side of my only friend on the other side of the wall of bushes that separated us from each other._

_He was sitting on the grass, his confused_ _green_ _eyes were attracted to mine instantly, like a magnet pointing north. I noted the busted bleeding lip. The unique visible trace of abuse he refused to tell me_ _about_ _. But I knew what was happening at his place. That his Uncle and Aunt weren’t taking very good_ _care_ _of him. My mother was shocked to learn that we only had a_ _year’s_ _difference_ _between us_ _and that he was older: he was much to_ _o_ _small and frail compared to me. However, when seeing Dudley, his cousin, I could easily guess where all the food went instead_ _of going to harry._

_“Sp … Spencer_ _?_ _” he groaned pitifully._

_“Shhh … I’m here Superman, I’m here …,” I told him while stroking his wild black hair. I remembered my mother doing that to me to reassure me and calm me down. I traced inattentively the strange lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, always so fascinating even if I_ _had_ _seen_ _it_ _for two months now. He gave me a hesitant smile at the nickname, which, according to him, was very badly chosen._

_“You know Houdini, you are the only person I have in this world.” He confessed after a while._

_I replied with a brilliant smile and we stayed there until he was called to make them dinner. He released himself_ _reluctantly_ _. We never separate with a goodbye. Never._

_“Where were you Spencer?” My mom asked me after I came back._

_“I was with Superman. His uncle shouted at him again and he needed me.”_

_“You are so nice to him, honey. I am_ _glad_ _that poor boy has you as his friend.”_

_“That poor boy, as you_ _say,_ _Diana, is a proper calamity according to his family! You shouldn’t pity him. It’s already_ _enough_ _that they took the time to welcome the child in their home after the death of his alcoholic parents. With such genetic baggage, it’s no wonder that the little one isn’t all there.” Concluded my dad, ignoring the_ _shocked and_ _furious look of my mother, and my own anger after hearing my friend being insulted._

_“William! Stop saying such dreadful things! That child is as sweet and_ _peaceful/passive as_ _Spencer.”_

_“This is why I will be signing him up for football!_ _He has to harden up a bit instead of_ _always_ _having his nose in the books! And he should_ _make_ _friends with the Dursley boy, a company much_ _more_ _respectable than the nephew.”_

_I stopped myself from_ _making_ _a remark, even if I had various statistics concerning injuries received during football matches that I could think_ _off_ _the top of my head. I was also equally scared_ _of_ _the thought of Dudley being near me for more than ten minutes. The_ _school_ _breaks were already very painful, even if Superman and I could escape from him, our muscles and lungs fail_ _ed_ _us quickly and I remember with some shame the ‘correction’ that Dudley and his friends gave him yesterday._

_The rest of the dinner passed in silent. After having finished eating,_ _still angry with my father,_ _I didn’t drag myself_ _to_ _the living room,_ _instead I went_ _to change then read in my room till exhaustion_ _took me_ _. I was surprised when my mother showed_ _up_ _when I was about to turn off the lamp before going to sleep. She sat next to me and she stroked my hair gently like I_ _had done_ _earlier with my friend._

_“Forget what your father said, Spencer. He can’t understand how much your friend means to you. But a mother knows.”_

_I sighed_ _with_ _satisfaction when she_ _pressed_ _her lips_ _to_ _my forehead at the exact same_ _place_ _where the_ _superman’s_ _lightning_ _scar was_ _._

_“Never forget this feeling, Spencer. One must never forget a friend.”_

_She smiled at me, took my glasses off gently and_ _putting_ _them on my night table she turned off the light. I snuggled deeper_ _under_ _the covers,_ _already_ _feeling Morpheus calling to me. In one last_ _moment_ _of consciousness I promised to the heart of the night. “I will never forget you Harry._

**-CM-HP-CM-HP-**

_Quantico, Virginia, United States —Spencer Reid’s House — 12th of October, 2007._

“HAR …!”

Spencer Reid, twenty-seven years of age, woke up with a start with a name on his lips which escaped him when he tried to remember. He was feverish and his breaths came out ragged as if he had been running. His alarm clock showed that it was 3:30 in the morning, but the doctor did not want to go back to sleep. He felt a deep-seated coldness in his soul. Did he just have a dream? Spencer tried to recall details of the dream but felt a violent headache coming on. He stood up shakily, with the firm intention of not taking a single medication. To not even touch the Diluvium in his drawer. With the help of Morgan, Spencer had started his journey to stop his addiction problems after the Hankel affair. The affair in which he had been tortured by the dual personalities of Raphael and Charles, then ‘helped’ by being drugged under the influence of Diluvium by Tobias. He still had nightmares concerning that time, but talking to his friend helped him diminish the yearning to use the enslaving hallucinogen.

It was only after taking an aspirin pill with a large glass of water, that the young man allowed himself to try and remember his dream. He couldn’t remember any Dursleys living next to him. With an eidetic memory, it was difficult to believe that he could even have _forgotten_. Though, it had all seemed so … so real. It was almost like it was a … memory?

Who was this little boy? Was he really his first friend?

And more importantly why had he forgotten?

Happy twenty-seventh birthday, Spencer …

 


	2. Chapter 1: Past, Present & Future

**Disclaimer:** I gain no profits from this story. Apart from the plot, I own nothing (and believe me, I really tried …).

 **AN:** Hey! Here is the first (real) chapter of my first fanfic! *Proud* Unfortunately, the prologue and this chapter don’t have a lot of action but a lot of chattering to establish the baseline. We will learn much from Harry’s pas, what will make him work in the United-States and what makes him an exceptional Auror. I have an underlining fear of making a to powerful Harry hence all the inconveniences concerning his power that will hopefully balance it all. You will quickly realize that I am cruel with my characters. (*Little sadistical laughter behind the screen that makes the characters in question tremble*). I like to put them in awkward situations or when there is no hope. We will see up to where this fanfic will take me, but know that I appreciate every review as long as they remain in the limits of decorum and that they respect my work. All flamers will be eliminated quicker than an Avada Kedavra!

Now, enjoy the story =)

**Personal disclaimer: I don’t own “Memories” since it belongs to the wonderful french author Markhal. I’m doing a little personal homework for the upcoming exams. One of my exams is a translation from french to english (and vice-versa).**

**This story rocks so not only am I studying for my exams, but I’m putting up one of the most incredible stories that should be shared in the English world. So, please, tell me what you guys think and I will pass on the word to the author who is worthy of all praises. (And I mean each and every word!)**

**Anyway, please enjoy the story as I slowly translate the first ten chapters, then as I wait for an update of the author.**

[_He who tells a lie is not sensible of how great a task he undertakes; for he must be forced to invent twenty more to maintain that one._](http://www.quotationspage.com/quote/29296.html)\- Alexander Pope

 

**Chapter 1: Past, Present & Future**

 

**-CM-HP-CM-HP-**

_Quantico, Virginia, United-States —FBI Office, Auror Division— 11th of January 2008_

Harry James Potter, now named Black, let out a long and hopeless sigh. He would have even hit his head on his desk if there was any space not covered by files. Even after nine years in this career, Harry couldn’t alter his aversion for paperwork.

“If I had known, I would have refused. When they talked about being an Auror, I didn’t know that I would be up to my eyes in paperwork _every_ morning.”

“Oh! Does baby Black have too much work? Maybe he would like me to give him his bottle and then he could take his warm, comfy nap?”

“Shut up, Draco.” Then, Harry moaned for a very long time. “Merlin, I am even _too tired_ to get mad at you. Thank some higher being for that!” He declared while pointing his finger accusingly at the blond who responded with a smirk.

“Higher beings have no responsibility in this, Black, only your own laziness and the administration of the FBI.”

“Remind me again why we ever became friends?”

Draco shrugged his shoulders neutrally. Which was the exact response that Harry had wanted. They never talked about of the circumstances that brought them together, or the reason why they are both called Black now. It was like massaging salt on old wounds: even if they were healed, they still hurt like hell.

Glad to have gotten the last word over his ex-enemy-now-friend-unfortunately-only-existing-relative, Harry turned back to his files. He determined that he should, theoretically, have enough space to place a cup of coffee on his desk. Even if the young man moaned about it, he loved his job. He loved working for the FBI as an Auror. He loved being there for people and to help protect not only wizards but Muggles as well. Even after all these years, he still hadn’t found a way to get rid of his Savior Complex and even if it still caused him problems on the field, it gave him the will to continue forward.

He started to think about what had brought him to America. When Sirius died, Harry had been devastated. The feeling of guilt tormented him slowly until he became a shadow of himself. He couldn’t stop berating himself. _“If only I took my Occlumency lessons more seriously … If only I listened before I acted … If only I hadn’t provoked Bellatrix … If only … If only …”_.  His anger at Dumbledore when he discovered the prophecy was the only emotion he showed during the mourning. The one person he always considered as a grand-father had manipulated him since his childhood.  He had been entrusted to magic-hating Muggles so that he would be more receptive to the advice of the Headmaster. Confronted by these revelations, Harry started to think about the implication of Dumbledore’s presence in the ‘accidents’ that happened during his school years. And he didn’t like what he came up with. Faced with this treachery, the only person he could trust seemed to be Remus.

**-CM-HP-CM-HP-**

FLASHBACK

_“Harry? Was it you who sent me the owl?”_

_“I need you_ _r_ _help, remus. I can’t trust Dumbledore_ _anymore_ _. After Sirius’ death, you …” Harry swallowed difficulty. He judged himself unworthy to utter his godfather’s name. Not when he was the one responsible for his death. “After his death, you are the only adult_ _I know_ _that I can ask for help.”_

_“_ _Me_ _? But.….Why_ _can’t_ _….. Why won’t you trust Dumbledore?”_

_Harry told him each and every one of his doubts concerning the past years.  Why didn’t Dumbledore move Nicholas Flamel’s stone the minute he knew that Voldemort was after it? Why_ _had_ _n’t he destroyed the stone earlier? How did Fawkes find Harry in the Chamber of Secrets? Why didn’t he help Sirius after discovering his innocence?  Why didn’t he help Harry during the Tri-wizard Tournament? Tell him about the prophecy that linked him with Voldemort until one of them was destroyed? WHY?_

_Remus stayed silent for a long while, processing the information that he just received from this cub, the only member left of his heart-pack. With James, Lily and Sirius dead, he and Harry were the last members and the werewolf refused to not help his cub. Remus still tried to understand Harry._

_“Why didn’t you ask Ron or Hermione_ _for help_ _?”_

_Harry shook his head gently._

_“They wouldn’t understand. They are still too young to see clearly in Dumbledore’s game. Hermione is loyal to him and Ron has his family singing his praises at every sniffle.” He finished with a bitter murmur._

_Remus couldn’t help his laugh, but contemplated Harry with a disapproving air_ _of_ _his disrespectful attitude._

_“What do you plan to do Harry? Nobody in England will go against Dumbledore or Voldemort, not even_ _for_ _the Boy-Who-Lived.”_

_“Nobody in England, yes. That’s why we will be leaving for the United-States.” Said Harry with the shadow of a smile in front of the surprised werewolf. “I used to live there with the Dursleys during my childhood.”_

_“I thought that you_ _had_ _always lived in England.” Confessed Remus._

_“Let me guess: Dumbledore?” The werewolf’s face told him everything. “Apparently my parents obtained the American citizenship with the British since, at the time, Uncle Vernon was working at Las Vegas and if anything happened to Sirius, Aunt Petunia would take guardianship ….”_

_“Why aren’t they living there anymore?”_

_“Accidental magic. I didn’t know at that time, at least. I saved a friend from being hit by a car and apparated_ _to_ _the school’s roof when I was seven. My Uncle and Aunt had to move to avoid the neighbors’ questions. My Uncle was then transferred to England. They weren’t very happy with the new development.” Murmured Harry, his lips were so pinched that it look_ _ed_ _like he swallowed a_ _plate full of_ _lemons._ _ Along w _ _ ith _ _the plate._

_“And after_ _that_ _? What will you do?”_

_“Ask the aid of the American Ministry of Magic. I will not lie down and wait for Voldemort to kill me. It is time for me to face_ _up to_ _my responsibilities.”_

_The silence_ _stretched_ _for a couple of seconds in the room before Harry was in a prideful embrace. Remus_ _hugged_ _the fifteen-years-old, communicating all of his warmth to reassure and encourage the young man. In the beginning, Harry remained stiff and frigid, unused to this sort of physical closeness, coming from_ _someone other than_ _Hermione. Then, little by little, he let himself hug_ _the_ _godfather of his heart back._

_“I will help you, cub. I will help you as much as I can.”_

END OF THE FLASHBACK.

**-CM-HP-CM-HP-**

That same night, they left England and found refuge at the American Ministry of Magic. Remus had left him there after making sure that he was in good hands in order to keep from arousing the suspicion of the Order of the Phoenix and its leader. To his relief, the American Ministry of Magic welcomed the young boy with open arms. Once he reached his sixteenth birthday and his emancipation papers were signed, he joined the Auror’s training program. Having become an adult in the eyes of society, Harry Potter invested himself fully into training — after correcting his eyesight through painful potions and complicated spells— hoping that it would help him defeat the Dark Lord. He learned how to appreciate the differences between the States and England. Here the Wizarding World and the Muggle one were much closer as the two Ministries worked together in very close collaboration. The Aurors had, in the Muggle world, a semi-official position as Special FBI agents which permitted them to intervene and cooperate with the Muggles without having to call upon the Obliviators. In some rare circumstances, some operations would involve both Aurors and “regular” FBI agents. Harry had an advantage compared to the other cadets of the program since, in spite of being one of the youngest, he had grown up with Muggles. This enabled him to pass, without any problems, his classes of Muggle Studies. It was even thanks to those classes that he could make some friends, even though he missed the presence of Ron and Hermione. They even taught him how to fight with his bare hands as well as to fire Muggle firearms. They had to be capable of fighting with and without their wands, especially if they were to work alongside Muggles.

Harry finally learned Occlemancy, even if it was extremely difficult. He would faint, most of the time due to exhaustion, but his instructors would only scream in his ears for him to wake up then make him re-start the exercise. After three months of intensive training, he was capable of protecting his mind from Voldemort and even spying on him without revealing his presence. However, even if he had become a first-class Occlomens thanks to the hard work and the zeal of his Auror teachers, the green-eyed boy was a natural Legilimens, capable of entering the mind of any sorcerer, excepting those most skilled at Occlomens, without the aid of a wand. This, of course, was the equivalent of a Muggle psychic except being more powerful. For a long while this gift was attributed to Voldemort’s heritage, like his ability to speak Parseltongue, until Harry turned seventeen, gaining his magical maturity and with it a terrible gift.

Apparently, the Evans line wasn’t as deprived of magical powers as the wizards had previously thought. Even though they were Muggles, the Evans had many mediums and seers in the family line. If Lily Evan, his mother, was the first to have enough magic to be considered a witch, she wasn’t the first one to have magical powers. That must have been the reason why her parents were so ecstatic when she turned eleven and received her letter for Hogwarts, as well as his aunt’s jealousy: to be a Muggle with a Witch for a sister was hard, but to be a _Muggle_ in a family where magic is present in the blood of each member, even in small doses, must have been hell.

After his birthday, Harry was hit by visions every time he touched an object. Sometimes they were horrible, others were joyous. That was how he discovered that his tenant had used his bed for some … _interesting activities_ (which led to Harry doing so many pranks for retaliation that his tenant swore to never use any other room than _his_ even if it was messy.). The medical-mages that examined him for the next several days finally understood what was happening to the young man after a battery of tests. Harry had become a contact-empath. This meant that whenever he came in contact with an object or a person, he could see either a memory filled with feelings or he would know what the person was feeling. That was the main reason why he was a natural in Legilimens and had difficulty learning Occlumency, the art of _hiding_ one’s emotion. Thanks to his friends in the FBI, Harry learned how to control, up until a certain point, his gift thanks to the aid of Occlumency and a good pair of gloves. The gloves were to prevent his skin from inadvertently touching anything or anyone.

Once his intensive year of training was finished, Harry with five Aurors formed a squadron to destroy Voldemort and his Death Eaters. After studying every single encounter between Voldemort and his followers, they spent weeks researching any information on the past of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. They finally found the existence of Horcruxes, thus finding out about the origins of Harry’s scar. If someone had told him these things two years ago, Harry was certain he would have first denied it then he would have been furious. But his training changed him, making him think before acting and making him more aware of the weight on his shoulders. He accepted the fact that he wouldn’t live past his next birthday.

In England, the situation was critical. Dumbledore had been killed a couple of months earlier, leaving the Ministry in the hands of the Dark Lord and of his followers. The Ministry passed several laws, especially for the Muggleborns, forcing them to be listed as well as taking away their wands. Or they would give Creatures, like Greyback and his pack of werewolves, a lot of power. The repression was violent and the country entered, once more, a new age of terror. Ron and Hermione had joined the Order of the Phoenix to fight against the regime. The meeting between them was, on one hand, noisy since they were scolding and shouting at Harry for his disappearance as well as telling him how much they had missed him, while on the other hand, it was silent due to the fact that Harry was squashed between them as they cried. Remus greeted him with a giant hug before informing him of his engagement with the Auror Nymphadora Tonks who was carrying his child. When Remus asked him to be his child’s godfather, Harry wanted to protest against it. It was Tonks who shut him up. “You are Remus’ cub, it’s obvious that you are the perfect guardian for our child, Harry! Don’t you dare say otherwise or I’ll creep into your room with Snape’s head!” The menace made them all laugh and Harry accepted humbly.

Five months later, Harry and his squadron had destroyed every Horcruxes that had been created. All that was left was Nagini, Voldemort’s snake, and Harry. The young Auror knew there was no way to study the enchantments protecting the snake before destroying it. Knowing perfectly well that he was the only one among his friends and Auror colleagues to not have anything left to live for and that he would have to die to destroy Voldemort’s soul within him, he was, logically, the only one to do this mission. He talked to every member of his team, calmly explaining his reasoning. The Aurors accepted half-heartily, two of them had kids and, even if Harry was very young, they had started to consider him as one of their own. They promised to destroy the Dark Lord when the time came knowing that it would be the last time they would see the boy in front of them. Before apparating, he gave them his wand and told them. “Give this to Remus and tell him …,” he swallowed to gather some courage, “Tell Remus that I’m sorry and that he will have to find another godfather.”

Harry had apparated to the middle of the Hall of the Ministry of Magic. He didn’t even have to introduce himself, his lightning bolt scar doing it for him, as multiple Stupefies made him blackout. He was brought in front of Voldemort himself. The serpent-faced man mocked him, mocked the prophecy, mocked his parents while asking him where he was all these years, claiming that he had been too afraid to face him. Neither his remarks nor mocking received any answer. Angered, Voldemort declared that he would break him before killing him. Until Harry begs to be delivered from his torments, he would not be satisfied.

That was how his long months of torture began. If Harry could protect his minds thanks to Occlumency, the same could not be said for the physical pain. The _Crucios_ pushed his nerves to the limit. The _Sectumsempras_ cut through his body in painful trails of blood. The blind-jinxes made him defenseless against his torturers while the burning-jinxes set aflame parts of his body, rendering them useless for long periods of time afterwards. When they were bored using spells, the Death Eaters started to use Muggle methods. They carved into his flesh, with knives, every insult that they threw at his face. ‘Monster’, ’Coward’ and ‘Beast’. Three words inscribed on his flesh for eternity. Bellatrix Lestrange loved to use the whip, leaving her own mark on the body of the Boy-Who-Lived. She often said she adored the sound of the slap of leather on his skin, the white lines that stayed after a couple of days … As for Fenrir Greyback, he preferred to inflict pain with his fists, breaking his bones to the point that he would be in tears. He would sometimes put him naked while mocking him and his weakness. His wolf claws would leave bloody tracks on his body. The werewolf was a particular vivid memory of Harry’s.

  1. It was a true that he didn’t escape completely unscratched, but he had been spared from the worst.



When they discovered he had the gift of empathy, they made him touch the instruments that he was tortured with, forcing to see and feel himself being humiliated and degraded. When they touched him, Harry felt their perverse and sadistic pleasure, which would have normally made him vomit if he had anything left. But, even if Harry’s spirit was put to the test, he didn’t break.

Not once did Harry speak during the three months. When he did open his mouth, it was to let loose inarticulate sounds, wounded beastly shouts and sobbing which he had learnt not to hold back. He spent all of his time and energy studying the shields surrounding the snake. The only thing that kept him going, to stay alive was his mission. His final mission.

He discovered a surprising ally with Draco. The boy was being treated like a plebeian House-Elf by the other Death Eaters ever since the death of his father in Azkaban. His ex-rival took the time to visit him, slipping him some potions and washing his wounds, while gently making fun of him to keep the situation as ‘normal’ as possible. Harry never answered, but made sure that Draco knew that he was grateful. The day that Harry finally broke the last charm surrounding Nagini, he grasped Draco’s arm while hissing in his ear.  “Go … to … Hogwarts … Warn … Horcruxes … Destroyed. Warn … FBI … Go!”

A  minute later, Draco disappeared, like the good Slytherin that he was, and left the Manor to apparate to Hogwarts and did as Harry ordered him to (even if he would deny it even today to ever have obeyed a Potter. Nah-uh!) When the Death Eaters were sent for him, Harry welcomed them with a bloody smile. Once he arrived at Voldemort’s feet, taking advantage of his enemy's distraction, he cast his only and unique spell wandlessly towards Nagini.

 ‘AVADA KEDAVRA’

He only heard the scream of agony from Voldemort before seeing the green light heading his way. After that, everything turned black.

The moment he woke up, he found himself outside, naked skin being gnawed by the cold. He could vaguely hear Voldemort’s voice taunting the crowd in front of him, exhibiting the body of their Savior blood-stained and demeaned. Harry wasn’t touching anybody at that moment, but he knew that in front of him were his friends, from both sides of the Atlantic. Draco had found a way to warn them. He vaguely wondered if the Death Spell really worked. But when he tried to feel the connection between him and Voldemort in his mind, he noticed that it had disappeared. It took a lot of willpower to curb the desire to let loose a victory cry. Before he knew it, the atmosphere around him had changed and spells were exchanged. His body was brutally dropped. He took advantage of the fact to roll away as far as possible from the conflict to take in what was happening in the fight. It was only due to his determination and adrenaline rush that he was able to get up and join the American Aurors who immediately recognized him. They greeted him with shocked yet ecstatic faces, as if they have seen a ghost coming back to life … which was the case. They transfigured robes from a rock to cover him before they jumped back into the battle. It only took a moment before he joined Remus’ side who just smiled and gave him back his wand saying that he knew that he wasn’t dead and that Teddy still had his godfather. Harry turned his head to avoid a _Diffindo_. When he looked back, Lupin had already continued onward. Finally, he was once again face to face with Voldemort. This time, no provocations or intimidations were exchanged. They both jumped directly into swirls of rapid and violent jets of spells. They didn’t notice that a circle had formed around them and that many duels had stopped to watch. It was only a slight distraction from Voldemort that offered Harry the moment he was waiting for. Voldemort died before he knew what happened. His serpent-like body keeled over on Hogwart’s hard soil without any artifice. For an instant, nobody moved, then the Death Eaters and Greyback’s pack, Voldemort’s allies, apparated or bolted by running one after the other, understanding that the battle was over. Unfortunately, they only caught low-ranking Death Eaters and some from the Inner Circle that were trying to retrieve their Lord’s body. To avoid any other problem, Harry made it disappear with an _Incendio_. His enemy’s body went up in smoke. All was finished.

Ron and Hermione were dead. Ginny and Luna were dead. Severus, after finally proving where his true loyalty lay, died while protecting Fred Weasley from Augustus Rookwood’s wand. Many aurors, American and British, were dead. But, the worse of all: Remus and Tonks, who just had a son, a son to whom Harry was the godfather, were dead.

Harry went back to the United-States. Nothing in England held him back. He invited Tonk’s mother, Andromeda, to come live with him in the States. He wanted to be for Teddy what Sirius had been for him during those two short years. The grandmother agreed but refused to share a house with a ‘young bachelor who had his whole life in front of him’. He visited them at least one a week to spend time with his nephew and help Andromeda with her day-to-day life.

He legally changed his name to live a more unperturbed life (or at least as far from the media as possible). Harry James Black became officially the youngest Auror in the FBI in July 1998. Four years later, the FBI welcomed Draco Black, the youngest Potion Master (he too had changed his name for security reasons. To the greatest damnation of Harry, they both now shared the same last name). Since then, Draco had become his best friend, even though from an outsider’s point of view, they always bickered more than anything. Old habits die hard.

He gained the respect of his fellow Aurors not only due to his gift of Legilimency and contact-empathy, but with his skills in dueling both in the wizarding and muggle way, not to mention the scars on his face that indicated his captivity with Voldemort. He also gained a promotion in less than two years after he entered the Auror Program. They gave him command of his own squads many times, often for operations in cooperation with the Muggles. He quickly proved to them that he was more than worthy for the post of Head-Auror, being recognized by his work in solo missions or as a leader of an Auror team. If it bothered anybody to be under the command of such a young person, Harry quickly changed their minds (sometimes, they would be obstinate, but nothing a couple of punches and well-chosen arguments couldn’t change.) He had just celebrated in July his ninth year of service … something that made him feel old.

“What are you thinking about, Black, with that little nostalgic air of yours?”

“That it will be now be five years since I got you as a burden.”

“Its been five years that I have YOU as a burden! And nobody cares about me.” Draco said with the traditional conceited Malfoy smirk.

“That’s because nobody would want to, Draco. You deserve every single thing that co—”

“Black!” Harry jumped before finishing his sentence and stood up with a jerk, toppling a pile of cases with a swear word. “In my office.”

“Yes sir.” Sending a thunderous look towards his chuckling blond friend, he followed the Director of Aurors to his private office. Algrey Parker was a tall, serious, fifty years old, Afro-American. He had been Harry’s wizarding dueling instructor and had taught him how to shoot. Parker has always been fair-minded towards his Aurors and had discretely helped Harry by taking care of the opposition against his promotion.

Harry sat down on one of the two chairs in front of Parker’s desk, after he sat down. After watching his superiors face for a couple of seconds, the young man realized that he looked stressed and tired. However, Harry stopped himself from using Legilimency or to ‘accidently’ touch Parker to know what happened. On one hand, Legilimency was at just this side of the _limit_ of Black Magic, while at the other, taking off his gloves to touch Parker wasn’t very discreet.

_Too bad._

“What is the matter, sir?” Asked Harry as the silence dragged on.

“What do you know of the current affairs in England, Black?”

“I am still in contact with some friends, but we rarely send owls.” Said Harry while thinking about Molly and Arthur Weasley, the parents of his dead best friend, who had lost their two youngest to the war. He was more in contact with the twins since they had opened branches in the US of _Weasley Wizard Wheeze._ They would occasionally visit him at his apartment. Unfortunately, Harry lived more in his office than at his place. With Bill and Charlie, he had received virtually no news. Despite that, it didn’t really bother him. “Has something happened?”

“A mass breakout of Azkaban, from both High-security and Low-Security levels. Even with the incompetency of the Ministry,” Harry discreetly coughed to hide his laugh, “ the British Aurors have caught a certain numbers of the jail breakers.”

“A _certain_ number … Let me guess, they left us the nicest and most inoffensive ones?”

Parker looked at him disapprovingly, while Harry slightly tilted his head as he widened his two big green eyes a little to appear innocent. The man chortled.

“Mmh … It’s funny that you have such a _British_ accent when you have so much disdain for the country.” Harry responded to that remark with an irritated glare. He was irritated that he hadn’t lost his accent, despite the years he had spent in the United States. This time, Parker really burst into honest laughter. Then he turned serious.

“No, British accent on the side, the situation is more serious than they would like to have us believe. As you know, Death Eater’s influence has greatly diminished, but has not completely disappeared despite the disappearance of You-Know-Who and the years.” The young man nodded his head. He was in the best position to know, Draco and he had to change names for that very reason. That, and the paparazzi always want an interview with the Boy-Who-Lived. “Unfortunately, the last break out permitted some of the most dangerous ex-Death Eater to escape and join the last resisting circles.”

“Do we have a list of the escapees?” Parker sighed deeply before giving him a very big file.

 _Great, everything I like …_ thought the young Auror as he accepted and riffled through it rapidly.

“We asked for every file to be prepared for anything.” Added Parker. Meanwhile, his protégé's face turned pale. “What’s the matter, Harry?”

Harry lifted his head suddenly, surprised to hear his superior call him by his first name, before he regained his composure and smoothed his face into an emotionless mask.

“Everything all’s right, just …” He swallowed difficultly. “Just some known faces that I prefer to never see again.”

“I know this is difficult, Black, but you are the one who knows them the best. You are in the best position to track them.”

“No problem, sir. I am always ready to rid the world of these monsters. Is there anything else that you wanted to tell me?”

“To tell you the truth, yes. Have you ever heard of the BAU?”

“ _Behavior Analysis Unit,_ the Department of [Behavioral Sciences](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Behavioral_sciences)? Yes, I know about it, why?”

“Starting tomorrow, you are going to work for them.”

 


	3. Chapter 2: Meeting and Secrets.

**Disclaimer** : Nothing belongs to me, only the plot! If it was the case, believe me, Morgan would be doing _something else_ than just profiling. *little smile*

 **Couple** : Harry/Derek

 **Warning** : AU, Slash (BoyxBoy), lemon, torture scenes, violence, mention of abuse.

 **Author's Note** : Here I am with a new chapter! First of all, I would like to thank all those that reviewed and/or added my story on their Alert list and/or Favorite lists! I was surprised by the success right at the start of this story. I was really pleased. I was so happy that every time a received a new e-mail, I had an ear-splitting smile on my face … So thank you once more! Of course, I invite you to continue to send more reviews since they are the riches of an author.

A special thank you as well for **Nana Egedan** who corrected all my spelling mistakes in the first two chapters (as well as my elaborated-written phrases.^^'). I also edited certain parts of the text so that it would be less heavy and more coherent so that I recommend that you re-read in particular the second chapter. Even if their isn't a lot of changes, certain parts will be decisive for the next part of the story. I won't be telling you any more!

Therefore, here is the third chapter which, I hope, will make you particularly happy as much as the first. I am now announcing that starting from today, I should normally post regularly chapters to the rhythm of once a week.

Now, enjoy =)

**Personal AN: That was the original author's notes, not mine. Which means, that all mistakes and/or changes have been done already. It also means that I won't be having a once per week chapter update. Sorry ;c.**

**On a more personal note, for any of you who didn't know yet (or haven't read the first world of my summary, aka _Translation_ ). That means that I am not the writer of this story but merely a translator. Just a little reminder.**

**Thank you as well to my Beta. She is the one who has gotten the raw end of the deal. So don't forget to give her your thanks.**

**At the risk of repeating someone else, enjoy the story.**

**Chapter 2: Meeting and Secrets.**

_Quantico, Virginia — Office of the FBI, BAU — January 12th._

Doctor Spencer Read sighed. He stared down at the cup of coffee in his hand before looking back up, more worried. Sighing _once again_ , the young profiler got up from his desk to throw away the coffee that had gone cold and served himself a new cup. When he came back, Morgan looked at him worriedly.

Spencer, despite being twenty-six years of age, was the youngest of the group and he was treated as such. His skin, already normally pale, was a sickly white today, and his big hazel eyes were red with dark rings around them. Normally, he would walk gracefully, but this time, his one meter eighty-three inches walked slowly by necessity. And if his colleagues were too blind to see the physical signs, listening to Reid sighing once more in less than five minutes was enough for them to know that something was bothering the little genius.

"Ok, Pretty Boy, what's bothering you?" The Metis finally asked.

Morgan was leaning against Reid's desk, staring straight into his junior's eyes, with his arms crossed. Years in the police force had taught Derek Morgan how to be intimidating without looking _too_ aggressive. But Reid was too tired to be intimidated and just walked around Morgan to sit down.

"Don't you have paperwork to do? Knowing that each file takes you around forty minutes to be completed and classified, and that you have exactly twelve files, you have four hours of work left in front of you." Declared the doctor with a 'leave me alone' undertone.

"Reid, I can see that there is something bothering you. You look half-dead and you aren't really the type to be so … aggressive."

"I thought that it was against the rules to profile teammates!"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Said Morgan, stepping away from the desk, satisfied to have proven his point. "Since when were you so stressed and sensitive?"

"You know that you can tell us anything, Reid." Gently added Emily, who had overheard the conversation from her own desk.

Reid finally conceded and started to sigh again.

"For some time now, I haven't been sleeping properly. I've been having these … dreams."

"What sort of dreams?" Demanded Emily, rolling her chair towards the two men.

"I dream about a little boy who used to live next me."

"And? What is the problem with that?"

"I promise my mom each time that I won't forget him since he needs me. I am his friend, but each time I wake up, I can't remember his name. I have completely forgotten! And it's impossible to remember it!

"That sort of thing happens to everyone, Reid." The Metis calmed him.

"Not to me! Well, normally."

"Are you sure this was just that … a dream?" inquired Prentiss.

"No, it's a memory. I'm sure of it. My head is trying to send me a message. A twenty-year old message."

"Twenty-year old? Naughty Reid, I didn't know that you liked people older than you! If I had known earlier, I would have approached you." Interrupted Penelope Garcia, the BAU's technical advisor, with a playful pout on her face as she walked down the stairs to join her friends and colleagues at Reid's desk.

"What? But I — No, not at all! Actually —", stammered a red-faced Reid.

Morgan whistled, impressed on seeing the dazzling appearance of Penelope. "Hey there, Baby Girl, who is the lucky guy that you're going to blind with your beauty?"

Today, Penelope had surpassed herself. Her blond hair had been tied into two pigtails streaked with bubble-gum pink strands. Her lips were a vivid red which went well with the purple and scarlet dress she was wearing. On her apple-green vest was an enormous flower brooch where cloth-covered butterflies tried to escape on thin wires. She chuckled happily.

"Don't you remember? Harry Black!"

"The new _senior_ supervisor? He arrives today?" Morgan scowled. " _He's_ the one you are trying to impress? Baby Girl, he will most certainly be too old for any of us. I heard that he worked with Rossi and Hotch!"

"I'm not against a man with experience." Smiled Garcia as she pretended to think.

"Harry Black … Wasn't he the leader of the intervention squad during the hostage situation in Washington three years ago?" An interested Prentiss wondered . "He's part of the Department of Special Affairs, isn't he?"

"That's exactly who he is." Stepped in, an equally interested Reid. "But I thought he was arriving in two weeks." He finished, confused.

"Change of plan, JJ saw some boxes in his office last night and I _accidentally_ saw a message for Hotch from him announcing his arrival today!"

"Really Baby Girl? 'Accidentally'?"

"Shh, you! So, who wants to come with me to see what his office looks like?" Suggested the technician, excited.

Morgan and Emily accepted right away. Reid hesitated.

"I don't know … Remember what happened the last time with Rossi …"

"Don't worry Reid. We'll keep the shutters open to see when he arrives." Reassured Emily. However, Reid was too preoccupied to be convinced. He left them to get himself another cup of coffee that maybe he would be able to drink.

The office of their new member was right next to Rossi's, but smaller. The walls were crimson with dark red going towards gold arabesques. The desk was made out of cherry, a slightly-red wood, which went well with the warm atmosphere. His chair, in comparison, was more spartan: it didn't seem comfortable and wasn't mobile like their own. The shelf, instead of being filled with books, was full of mountains of files. There were very few personal objects that were out. Despite that, there were a couple of photos of a young boy and an older woman on the desk. No photos of the agent in question. When Morgan checked the content of the last three boxes, he found only files.

"Well then, it looks like he doesn't have much of a social life." He observed after the last box. "Someone's coming!"

They all turned to see a young man of small stature with wild black hair tamed only by the use of a small amount of gel. He was struggling to open the glass doors of the BAU with two boxes under his arms. Prentiss rushed to open the door and Morgan helped the poor boy with one of his boxes. Garcia observed the scene from the desk.

"Thank you very much. I thought I would have to put them down and I wasn't sure if I could hoist them up again." Declared the smaller man with a heavy British accent and small nervous laugh.

Derek felt something inside him rebel, as if it wanted to get out and explode. He contained this sudden and inexplicable anger to observe the young man that he had relieved the box from.

 _Probably an intern_ , the Metis thought.

"Not a problem, kid. Where would you like me to put it?"

The boy stared at him for a moment, apparently annoyed at the nickname. Pushing his pride aside, he indicated with his head the room they had just spied on. "In that office, over there. One more box and after that, I'm done!"

At that moment, Reid turned around from where he was standing. He froze at the sight of the young man as if he had seen a ghost. A moment later, he did a 180 and took refuge next to the coffee machine. Morgan exchanged a look with Prentiss. They followed the intern who hadn't noticed the scene.

"Did you have to bring all of these boxes here?" She asked with furrow eyebrows. "A certain new agent is giving a very bad first impression." She narrowed her lips disapprovingly.

"What do you mean by that?" The small man asked, confused. He greeted Garcia in the office with a nod of his head then put his box down next to Morgan's.

The intern was even smaller than the BAU's technician, Morgan noticed, internally amused. The boy couldn't be more than twenty. He was surely doing an internship in logistics and was being taken advantage of by the floor where he was stationed. There were three ugly scars that started from the middle of his cheekbones and went down diagonally towards his jawbone. They were swollen and white due to time. His eyes were a brilliant green, observed Prentiss, and his body, even if it was petit with a fragile-like appearance, revealed slim muscles when he stretched after the effort. Garcia spotted his black leather gloves that contrasted with his long-sleeved bottle-green shirt and jeans. She liked this cute side mixed with an ounce of danger on him.

"Oh, where have you been hiding, you cute little elf you?" She asked while kissing his cheeks. The intern froze at her contact. But he sent her a small appreciative smile when she drew back. "My name is Penelope Garcia, my pretty. If a mean agent ever tries to make you do his work, come to me and I'll punish him."

"Er … thank you? So you guys are all profilers, right?"

"Technically," Morgan corrected him, maybe a little harsher than was necessary. Something wasn't right concerning the intern, but he didn't know what. He felt a peculiar hostility towards the boy. "Prentiss and I are profilers and this delicious looking creature here is our technical analyst."

"And … umm … What are you doing here?" The intern asked while bitting his lips.

"You are making me wanting to start playing with my dolls again." Said Garcia without thinking, making the young man's jaw drop.

"What Garcia meant to say," Prentiss tried to salvage the situation, "is that we have a new agent arriving today. We are trying to see what sort of person he is by observing his office."

The young man looked amused. "You can do that with a profile?"

"Yes! For example, the color red on the walls indicates an active personality, yet aggressive with a tendency of being impulsive and trusting." Offered Morgan which made the intern laugh. He murmured something about a griffon and gold.

"The fact that he has photos of his family, but doesn't appear in any of them, shows that he is close to his family but feels unworthy to be part of it. He is afraid to taint his family's happiness by his presence. He probably has a very heavy past which has left scarring. This, in itself, isn't surprising for an agent of his rank. But, by looking at the number of photographs, he adores his son." Pursued Prentiss. The young man had lost his smile and looked uncomfortable.

"The number of boxes of files imply that he very invested in his work. Maybe a bit to much. At first, one could think that they aren't organized. However, looking closely, we can see that they are arranged alphabetically and have numerous footnotes and annotation which proves that he spends time working. Seeing that there are no personal objects, he doesn't do do much but work." Finished the Metis.

Finally, the intern pasted a blank expression on his face.

"I didn't know we could find out so much about someone based on such small things … It's impressive. And what does you work consists of, Miss Garcia?"

" _Miss Garcia_ " repeated the women while imitating his british accent with glee. "I do research thanks to my computer to establish not only a list of suspects but to find particular information on a chosen person."

"We can do that we a computer? Fascinating!" Observed the boy with black hair, sincerely interested.

Garcia chortled, easily falling under the British charm, until Hotch and Rossi, attracted by the noise, came into the office.

"Oh! Hello Agent Hotchner, good to see you again." Greeted the young man as he went to shake his hand. Then he went to greet the older agent. "Agent Rossi. You team was giving me a demonstration of their expertise in profiling and I must say that it is mind-boggling. Even if they did jump to certain conclusions."

"Agent Black, welcome to the BAU. I am sure that your abilities will be of great help to us." Hotch answered him, impassively.

"Wait, Hotch, did you say 'Agent Black'?" Exclaimed Morgan in a rough voice.

Next to him, Prentiss and Garcia looked just as surprised. Prentiss had paled in mortification, while Garcia had her mouth wide open, stupefied. Rossi gave a small discreet laugh. Apparently, Agent Black had already striked. The young man had a slow satisfied smile with a hint of cynicism.

"It's true, I forgot to introduce myself. Special Senior Supervising Agent Harry Black. The one with the impulsive and active personality as well as being terribly trusting. Whose _godson_ will be celebrating his tenth birthday and living peacefully with his grandmother. Unfortunately, completely addicted to his work and whose _personal objects_ are in the last box in his old office, proving that yes, he does have a social life. Happy to make your acquaintance Special Agent Derek Morgan, Special Agent Emily Prentiss and Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia. On that note, please excuse me but I still have a box to bring here." And with one last mocking smile, he left the office and the BAU under the surprised stares of the three duped agents.

Prentiss looked as if she been shot twice. "That was _worse_ than with Rossi!" To have been tricked _twice_.

"Senior Supervisor? But how can a boy be a senior? On top of that, is he even _american_?" Raised Morgan, still under the shock.

Rossi chuckled and even Hotch had a small smile on the corner of his lips. "You will quickly find out that Black isn't what he appears to be. This isn't the first time that he tricked agents of this office. So don't be too upset to have fallen in head first."

"I remember sending him to get me coffee." Admitted Rossi with certain embarrassment tinged with amusement in front of the crumbled faces of the four younger agents. "Don't be fooled by his innocent appearance, he really is a demon."

JJ rushed into the office. "We have a case! … Why are all of you in Agent Black's office?"

Rossi and Hotch shared a sly smile. Morgan and Prentiss groaned together while Garcia could only turn red in embarrassment.

**-CM-HP-CM-HP-**

Harry climbed up with his last box - smaller than the others, which permitted him to carry it under one arm- which contained his last photos, his golden snitch, his books and personal notebooks of the last few years, that he had personally enchanted to look innocent in the eyes of Muggles, and the old wizarding chess set which Ron willed him after his death.

He surprised himself by laughing while recalling the horror inscribed on the faces of those he had tricked. Harry carried no-illusion: he was much smaller than the average agent and even if he was a year older than Reid, he looked younger and more fragile. But he refused to see it as a weakness and used it as an advantage. For example, he could fool someone into thinking that he was the weak link of a team and takes advantage of the fact that they underestimate him. Or, he could pretend to be an intern and receive firsthand information.

He laughed once again.

He was surprised by the members of the BAU. They were all taller than him (which wasn't really a surprise). He appreciated the professional elegance which emitted from Emily Prentiss, her long black hair brushed to the perfection while she wore her grey suit. He had read in her file that she had travelled a lot with her mother, a diplomat.

For Penelope Garcia, she had at first surprised him with her eccentric extraverted attitude which reminded him, with certain nostalgia, of Luna Lovegood. He had been horrified when she had kissed him, but the contact only brought him feelings of excitement, sympathy and a strange possessiveness. His empathy helped him to feel immediately close to the analyst. On top of that, he was really fascinated by computers: he was himself incapable to use them for anything else but the Internet and card games. To learn everything that the machine could give him was a thrilling prospect.

The only one on whom Harry couldn't get a real opinion on was Derek Morgan. He was dominating with his hight, looked vaguely intimidating with his razed head and his t-shirt which underlined muscles made to beat up anyone. However, the Metis had proven how nice he was, offering his help to carry the boxes. But there was something rude and brutal in him that made the young wizard feel uneasy. His reaction before the revelation of his identity was the funniest of them all, if not a bit aggressive. Harry had also felt a proud growl growing. Instinctively, his inner wolf didn't seem to like the Metis agent.

Yes, the three scars on his cheek came from Fenrir Greyback. The same werewolf who had bitten Remus Lupin, his godfather, had left him a little souvenir. In the same way as Bill, the claws of the werewolf had not transmitted the lycanthropy, only certain instincts which went with it. For example, the desire for meat grew as the full moon approached, or his protective instincts that he felt towards Teddy. His godson, a half-werewolf himself suffered the same problems as him. Together they had formed a small pack with just the two of them. And just like Remus had done for him, he lovingly called the young boy 'cub'. They would alway run on the nights of full moon, because even if they didn't transform, the call of the moon and the wild air was still very much present. Or again, like now, his wolf warned him against certain people. And if _it_ didn't like Derek Morgan, than Harry wasn't going to contradict it: he had learned to trust his instincts.

Seeing Hotch one again, in his impeccable suit, the figure impassive, made him smile. There were some things that never changed. Rossi, the senior profiler, on the other hand, seemed more open, less self-centered compared to when he first met him a couple of years earlier. Harry had read one of his books and liked the tone in which the profiler wrote about his old cases. They were two Muggles very competent and experienced that Harry appreciated a lot, even though they had only worked together for a very short time. Too bad that he was obligated to keep his magic a secret, he hated to lie to intelligent people. He was even certain that Hotch knew something was up, but the man never said anything.

The only people he had yet to meet was Jennifer Jareau, the media liaison agent, and Spencer Reid. He wasn't looking forward to meeting the later. Parker had to _reassure him_ (much to the amusement of his superior and to his greatest shame) that after the _Obliviate_ spell and twenty years apart, Spencer, his only and unique childhood friend apart from the spiders, _wouldn't_ _remember_ him. That had calmed him as well as made him sad. But, once an _Obliviate_ had been cast, only a very powerful wizard was capable to break it. And Harry wasn't ready to risk the secret of the Wizarding World for his own personal desires …

 _At least, not at the moment_ , said the little voice of his conscience which strangely resembled Draco's.

Harry was greeted at the entrance of the BAU by a splendid blonde who was _finally_ the same height as him. She gave him a smile while shaking his free hand, frowning discretely at the sensation of his leather gloves.

"Agent Black, my name is Jennifer Jareau, the BAU's liaison agent. I'm sorry, but you won't have the time to unpack. Our next case has just been communicated." She told him with an apologetic smile.

"Pleased to meet you, Agent Jareau. Don't worry about it," he said while walking with her towards the office, "I'm not here to be a bother. If that means that I have to leave my office messy and to delay cleaning it up, then I'm your guy!"

The woman arched an amused eyebrow. "Please, call me JJ." to which he offered that she simply called him Black. After he put down the last box and locked his office, she invited him to follow her to the Conference Room.

"Everyone, this is Agent Harry Black. Black, these are Agents Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Dr Spencer Reid and our technical analysis Penelope Garcia. I think you already know Agent David Rossi and our Unit Chief, Agent Aaron Hotchner."

Harry froze the minute he laid eyes on Spencer. Even sitting down, it was clear that he was atleast 6 feet tall, maybe taller. His face had lost the baby-fat that the wizard had known, but he would never mistake him for someone else. He still had those big hazel eyes and mid-length caramel color hair which he put nervously behind his ear, like back then. Harry hid his agitation behind a weak smile, hoping that his pause wouldn't be noticed.

"I have already met the other members of the team; please to meet you Dr Reid." Harry didn't smile this time when Morgan, Prentiss and Garcia looked sheepish. He mainly tried to keep his feelings under control with Occlemency. Unconsciously, his hand went the holster next to his gun which held his wand, rendered invisible by a Disillusion Charm. The familiar contact reassured him a bit.

"The pleasure is mine, sir." Replied an unenthusiastic Reid, much to the surprise of all the others.

"Reid is out residence genius. He has a 187 IQ and has an eidetic memory. He has three doctorates in Mathematics, Chemistry and Engineering." JJ informed him, noticing the tension in the room.

"Impressive." Harry tried to feign surprise but wasn't really. Spencer had always been an extraordinary child and even if he admired Spencer for it, he wasn't so surprised by his exploits. Ever since he was young, Spencer was different, a little like Harry. That was why they were so close.

He sat in front of Spencer, right next to Prentiss who looked at him curiously. Harry ignored her in favor of listening to JJ's speech on the case of the day.

**-CM-HP-CM-HP-**

Derek had some trouble concentrating on JJ's words. He watched Black while trying to figure out his feelings. Something emanated from the agent, something dark and powerful which made the hair on the nape of his neck stand up while at the same time gave him a shiver of anticipation. However, he didn't like what had transpired between Reid and Black. First Reid had run away at his sight, then Black was acting weird towards the youngest of the group … there was something fishy and the profiler in Derek was ready to find out what it was. And seeing the looks that Prentiss kept throwing at the new _senior_ , he had an ally.

"Stanford's University has been the scene of four murders in the space of five months. The victims all have the same profile: young men between early to mid-twenties, popular and they were all presidents of their fraternity. They were all found in plain sight in the hallways of the House, naked, covered with obscenities and drowned in their vomit."

"Urgh, I will add this to my list of non-desirable deaths." his Baby Girl commented with an expression between horror and disgust.

"The last two murders were only two weeks apart compared to the month between the second and third murder, the Unsub is in the midst of a psychotic breakdown and will probably commit another murder before the end of the week." said Rossi while reading the file.

"The murders were committed during the night and the bodies were found in the morning at the Houses of the fraternities, our Unsub must know the locations. He must certainly be living on campus or working there. Seeing his control and his method, I think that he must be at least older than twenty-five." added Morgan.

"Ok, Garcia, I want you to find every man older than thirty, living or working on campus. Wheels up in an hour." announced Hotch.

Harry Black was the first to leave the room, accompanied by Hotchner, asking him if they _really_ have to take the plane, followed by Rossi and JJ. Morgan frowned. A guy from the Special Affairs who didn't like to fly? Weird.

"There is something about Black that I don't like." thought Derek out loud.

"He is strange, that's for sure. Did you see how his demeanor changed in a matter of seconds back there?" asked Prentiss.

"The simple fact that Rossi labeled him as a demon is enough to scare me," said Garcia with a tone of voice that betrayed her agitation to better know the senior agent more than her apprehension. "What surprised me most is the way he treated our little angel!"

Reid, having stayed silence up until now, didn't respond to the remark. At the absence of a response, Morgan worried. "Reid? Something wrong, Pretty Boy?"

"Everything's fine, Morgan. I'll see you later." said Reid, pursing his lips, he left the room in a hurry to avoid further questioning.

_Okay …_

Morgan, Prentiss and Garcia exchanged looks. Derek didn't like where this story was going. Reid looked lost and scared. The protective instincts of the Metis had been awoken, and he had to restrain himself from cornering the young profiler so that he could harass him until he would tell him what was going on.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I have no idea, but something is happening here and I don't like it. What do we know about Black?" Prentiss paused before smiling ironically. "A part from being capable of looking like an intern to experienced profilers."

"He's a senior super special agent, though he must be only twenty-five year old, which suggests that either the Special Affairs distributes their promotion like candy, or this person has as much experience as Hotch or Rossi. Seeing how they interact — even if it costs me to say it — the latter is the most probable."

"We'll have to learn more about the previous affairs that he worked on, maybe he and Reid worked together on one of them and they don't have good memories about it."

"Baby Girl, can you work your magic to find out more about our new friend?"

"I'll do anything for our genius. I will call as soon as possible."

On this note, they separated, ready to solve the mystery.


	4. Chapter 3: Discussion and Information

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal AN: Alrighty, a new chapter is up and I'm finally back in school. I thought that the summer vacation would have allowed me to write more but my summer job (at McDonalds) enabled me to do that.
> 
> On an another note, I am sorry to say that one of my stories "Champions' History" has been deleted. So, if this story ever gets deleted (you may never know and I pray that it won't happen) here is what you'll have to do:
> 
> If you find this story deleted, please go on my profile. There, you will see a link to my other account on AO3 (Archives Of Our Own) where everyone of my stories are updated there and stored as back-up.
> 
> And finally, A Very Special THANKS to my lovely beta Ariel's lover whom not only corrects a lot of my mistakes but is encouraging me on to continue translating. I am also proud to say that she will be my official Beta (*wipes eyebrow* you are a life-saver).
> 
> Now, read this story, write a review and say how brilliant Markhal is. ^^v
> 
> PS: This is one of my favorite chapters as well. Poor, poor Hotch.
> 
> Current Status of the fic: Un-beta since my beta is swamped with work. I'll put up the beta version when she is done.
> 
> A little translation note; a reviewer pointed out that they didn't understand the word "Metis". It's a French word meaning "someone of mixed heritage" like our lovely Morgan.

**Disclaimer** : I make no profit for this story (a part from a moral and intellectual profit :) ). No characters from JK Rowling or Criminal Minds belong to me. *disappointed sigh*

 **Couple** : Harry/Derek

 **Warning** : AU, Slash (BoyxBoy), lemon, scenes of torture, violence, mention of abuse.

**Answer to questions:**

-  _Are Hotch and Rossi aware of the magical world?_

No, but profilers are perceptive human beings. I am certain that they will one day surprise us. ;)

-  _Is Garcia a witch?_

No, you have just fallen into the trap by your humble’s servant’s horrible word play.

 **Criminal Mind’s character summary:** In response to certain reviews, I told myself that it would be easier if I added a “little” summary of things to know about the BAU team for those who haven’t seen or barely seen Criminal Minds. For the knowledgeable, it will be interesting to read it as well since I changed certain chronological details so that I won’t have any problems later in my fic. Just for your information, the fic starts during season 3, a few months after Rossi arrives to the team (approximately episode 12). If later on you need complementary information on a character, don’t hesitate to ask me by PM, I’ll add it in a later chapter for everybody. ;)

 _Aaron Hotchner or Hotch_ ( **approximately 45 year old** ), hight **1m88** ( **6’2”** ). He is the unit chef in the BAU. When he was little, his father was a workaholic lawyer who would beat his brother, Sean, and him. Their father died when Sean was still a child. He worked at the general attorney’s office before coming to the FBI. He was married to Haley Hotchner with whom they had a son, Jack. He is very invested in his work, but this caused problems in his relationship with his wife, up until to the point where she asked him for a divorce recently in this timeline. He is a tall man with short black hair and always wearing a costume. We rarely see him smile and his deadpan humor is a bit dark.

 _David Rossi_ **(approximately 55 year old),** hight **1m82 (5’11** **½** **”** ). He was Sergeant Major in the Marines before coming to the FBI. He is a legend of profiling at the FBI, he was one of the first profilers. He has a reputation of a playboy and the rules against fraternization between agents of the FBI has been created mainly because of him. He was married and divorced three times and is rather rich. After having taken an early retirement, he wrote many books on his BAU cases, but finally comes back to the Bureau, haunted by a case that hasn’t been solved yet … He is a middle-aged man, salt-and-pepper rather short hair and wears a beard. He has a preference for a more brutal method than subtle, and we know that he has a caustic and abrasive humor.

 _Derek Morgan_ (6th June 1973 — **34 year old** ), hight **1m85 (6’1”)**. Born of a black African father and a white American mother, he grew up in Chicago with two sisters, Désirée and Sarah. When he was 10, his father, a police officer, died in service and Derek started to frequent gang members. He found refuge in Carl Buford, who took him under his wing and helped him win a scholarship to study. Two years ago, the BAU members had discovered that Carl had abused and raped Morgan by chance, while Morgan had been accused of the murder of one of the raped children. He is an expert profiler in obsessional crimes, in explosives and has already done an undercover mission during eighteen months … He is a muscled man (black belt in judo) with a shaved head and light brown skin, usually wears a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He is fiercely protective of his colleagues, especially Reid to whom he is like an older brother, and likes to flirt with Garcia.

 _Jason Gideon_ **(approximately 55 year old),** hight **1m85 (6’1”** ). (He doesn’t normally appear in this story but I prefer to describe him since his departure is only a couple of months old and he still has a great influence on the characters.) He is Reid’s mentor to whom he has a father-son relationship. He is an extremely talented profiler who was even in charge to supervise certain members of the CIA. He left the BAU after a psychopathic killer killed his companion.

 _Spencer Reid_ (12th October 1981 — **27 year old** ), hight **1m85 (6’1”)**. He us the youngest member of the team. A genius with an IQ of a 187, he finished high school at 12, where he was often the victim of bullying and mocking. His father left the house when he was young, forcing him to take care by himself of his paranoid schizophrenic mother. When he turned 18, he place her in a psychiatric hospital and writes to her a letter every day. He has an eidetic memory, also known as photographic, meaning that he never forgets what he has seen or read (but this doesn’t apply to what he hears) and is capable of reading 20 000 words per minute. It was Gideon who helped him enter the BAU in 2004. He has a Doctorate in Mathematics, Chemistry and Engineering, Psychology and Sociology and he is now in the midst of acquiring a Doctorate in Philosophy. A significant episode is when he was captured and tortured by a killer with three personalities which caused him to use Dilaudid, a psychotropic drug. He is a tall, lanky young man with long light-brown hair, dresses classically in a “well-mannered” style. One of his habits is to quote statistics and not always relevant to the topic.

 _Jennifer Jareau_ (22nd July 1978 — **29 year old** ), hight **1m69 (5’6** **½** **”)**. She is the agent in charge of the liaison between the team, the medias and local police services. She isn’t technically a profiler, but she is the person who decides which case the team should take care off. She is in a relationship with William J. La Montagne, a policeman the BAU had met one year ago. She is a woman with long blond hair with an average hight, depending on the day, she wears a costume or something more casual. She is a bit the mother of the team, and she is also the one in charge to keep the ego of the profilers in check.

 _Emily Prentiss_ (12th October 1978 — **37 year old** ), hight **1m73 (5’ 8”)**. She traveled with her mother, an ambassador, nearly all her life, enabling her to speak fluent Arabic, Italian, Spanish and can hold a conversation in Russian. She graduated from Yale and worked for 13 years at the FBI before transferring to the BAU. In the beginning, the other members of the team thought that she used her mother’s influence to get the job, but in the end, thanks to her capabilities, she found a way to be accepted. She is a tall woman with long brown hair going towards black and a fringe, always wearing a suit. She has a very good relation with Morgan and often goes out for a girls’ night with JJ and Penelope Garcia.

 _Penelope Garcia_ **(approximately 33 year old),** hight **1m70 (5’7”** ). Her parents are dead due to a drunk driver when she was eighteen. She then abandoned University and worked as an illegal hacker, up to the point that she was added on the FBI’s list of most dangerous and important hacker of the world. She was then recruited by the FBI to work for them. A few months ago, she was shot by a killer who was then caught and killed by JJ. She is a slightly plump blond, with fair hair that she likes to dye, always wearing very colorful clothes.  She has a very optimist personality, always working at full speed and loves to joke around. She has a flirting relationship with Morgan, without wanting to go further, and has protective feelings for Reid. 

For your information: _Harry_ (31st of July — **27 year old** ) and _Haley Hotchner_ (Hotch’s wife) is **1m68 (5' 6")** tall.

 _Diana Reid_ is **1m83 (6)** tall.

 **Author’s note:** Hello to all! First of all, thank you to all who have reviewed and/or added this story to your lists! You fuel my ego and pride as an author (which isn’t something very good if you listen to my friends x) ). Thank you, thank you, thank you!

As usual, a special thank you dedicated specifically to **Nana Egedan** who, not only helps me during class, but corrects my mistakes in this fic! Don’t hesitate to write reviews to give me your opinions, impressions … your dislikes (without trying to flame me of course). It will be my pleasure to answer you!

Now, enjoy =)

**Chapter 3: Discussion and Information**

_Somewhere between Quantico and Stanford —FBI’s private jet —12th of January_

Reid was re-reading the file. Once again. After the first time, the action was stupid, he was capable of reciting the text word for word, but he was using everything in his power to try to avoid looking at agent Black. The newest member. Who was only a year older than him. And that weirdly similar to the little boy of his dreams.

_I am going crazy._

The rational part of his brain was telling him that he must have seen a photo of Black before and that his dreams were nothing more than his sub-conscience sending him Freudian dreams and that the child looked like Black for that reason. However, he knew that a normal person had approximately 1460 dreams per year and to have 72 time the same dream in the past three months was more than a coincidence. He was older, with more scars on top of than and not wearing glasses, but he could find the messy black hair, even if a tiny bit tamed by gel, big green eyes and a face a but more angular with more pronounced traits, even if always the same, that he could see in his dreams.

Black was acting weirdly. Maybe he was one of those persons who hated to see someone younger than them have a high rank. Reid immediately discarded that idea. He was a _senior_! While he was only twenty-seven! Maybe he didn’t like people more clever than he was … No, it contradicted with the profile from Gideon’s files.

He hadn’t told his colleagues and friends from the BAU, but the mysterious agent had not only worked with the most experienced agents of the bureau, but has also have been interviewed many times by Jason Gideon, his mentor. Reid, as soon as he heard the name of Harry Black, had remembered the file in the stuff that had gotten after … _the abandoning_. Many pages were missing, and numerous parts of the text had been censored, but he had access to the basic information — the scores at the cadets’ Academy and the professional career, for example — as well as the draft of the profile. That was why he knew his birthdate, the fact that he became a cadet when he was sixteen, was a _special_ agent since he was eighteen year old,  and had been promoted to team leader when he turned twenty and since then had only positive comments from the other services whom he collaborated with it. Even if he was frequently qualified as  someone “extreme” and “imprudent”. Even if with these remarks, Gideon had qualified him as loyal to his friends, knows how to be humble or knows his true worth when he needed it, but was at the limit of recklessness and of aggressiveness when his life was on the line, often impulsive with a relatively respect of the rules which gave him a lot of problems. Out of everything he gathered about Harry Black, he was some sort of genius. Maybe not of the same caliber as Reid, but you needed something to be accepted in the FBI so young, right?

So, if was a genius himself, why would he have a problem with him?

Reid put back the file with a sigh. If the murmurs between Morgan and Prentiss had stopped to look at him, he ignored them. JJ was talking with Hotch about the eventual problems of conflicts with the staff of University, while Rossi was arguing that it will be the students themselves who will oppose resistance. Finally, he risked a glance at Black.

The agent seemed even smaller than before. He was sitting on the chair nearest to the exit, eyes closed and the face pale. Between his lips, he was whispering something, surely to prevent himself from screaming. Remembering the first time he took the plane, and of the fright that overpowered him him from take off to landing, up to the point where he had recited the first thirty digits of pi, the entire periodic table and had started Shakespeare's plays, he felt compassion. Despite his apprehension, Spencer approached Black.

“Phobia of heights or afraid of planes?”

Black allowed himself to open an eye to see whom was addressing him. Spencer wasn’t so sure of himself, fixed by that green eye, but he relaxed when the man gave him a feeble eye. “Plane.”

“If it can reassure you, there is one in a billion chance that a crash can occur, reduced by one in a four million two hundred and fifty thousand chance since this is a privet FBI jet which is even more inspected than other planes in case of a bomb attack.”

Suddenly, the other agent burst into laughter, looking at Reid with bright eyes. “I’m afraid that you and I have a tendency to go agains statistics, Dr Reid,” he said with an amused voice, but tainted with irony that Spencer couldn’t figure out the significance.

“At every statistics, it’s exception.” Reid shrugged lightly. “I saw you speaking earlier and I remembered my first flight where I did the exact same thing to calm down.” He sat down in front of Black after he was invited by a gesture.

“I tried to forget that I was in a giant metal coffin thousand of meters in the air. But you are much more entertaining that any recitation that I memorized.

“I … I don’t think that I am as amusing as you think I am, Agent Black.”

“To believe is what’s the most important!” Declared with a smile of someone who not something you didn’t.

FLASHBACK

_“To believe is what’s the most important, Harry!”_

END OF FLASHBACK

Spencer was confused for an instant. Another memory?

“Please, Dr Reid, just call me Black,” he continued on. “Not just because we only have a year difference, but at the very least so that I don’t feel as if I aged ten years.”

Reid blushed and accepted immediately, returning the invitation, to which Black responded with a smile.

“Your attention please. We will land in less than half an hour so I’ll be distributing the tasks. Morgan, you and Prentiss will look at the dump sites and interrogate potential witnesses. JJ, Reid, go to Police Headquarters. I would like for Reid to establish a geographical profile, maybe it would help us establish a reason as to why the suspect chooses these Fraternities. JJ, prepare a press conference, the students have to be warned that danger is lurking on campus. Rossi and I will discuss with the Directors of the University of the measures placed to watch over at night.”

“And Black?” Morgan couldn’t help himself but ask, looking at him from the corner of his eye.

Spencer felt the tension coming from the man sitting in front of him. He saw him bring his hand to his belt next to his holster, and calmed down instantly.

“I know that I look young, but up to the point that I would need a baby-sitter … I should warn you, I am a _very_ difficult child, agent Morgan,” said Black, a mocking smile floating on his lips.

“That’s not I wanted to say, I —”

“What Agent Black does,” interrupted Hotch, “does not concern you, Morgan. He will be on the site of the campus, but will be conducting an annexing investigation. The only instruction concerning him, beside our own office, Harry Black is a student like any other, understood?”

Every agent gave their agreement, Morgan sending a dark look to the young agent at the same time. The latter ignored him and did a false admiring exclamative.

“Agent Hotchner! You are my hero!” Spencer fixed an incredible look at Black. Did his cockiness transform in suicidal tendencies since his last interview with Gideon? It was now Hotch’s turn to send a thunderous look to the young agent who didn’t seem disturbed and even sent a mocking smile. Was there some story behind all this?

“I thought you were afraid of planes, Black?”

Black’s smile disappeared in a flash and his face regained his deathly paleness. Reid even thought he heard him grumble about sadistical unit chefs and of a vengeance that he would savor. Spencer raised an eyebrow at Hotch’s abnormal behavior. Even if his unit chef kept a passive face, it was clear that he was amused at the way the agent was acting.

“45% of the undercover agents wound up being hurt,” said Spencer to Black, in a conversational tone.

Black laughed feebly. “Really, Reid? Let’s hope that I’m part of the 55% that’s left then.”

“7% are killed.” Why couldn’t he just shut up? Fortunately Black didn’t seem to be bothered by this.

“Thinking carefully, I think that I prefer the 93% chance to stay alive,” he joked.

Deciding that he had been sufficiently humiliated, Spencer stood up to go back to his seat. “I … think that I’ll be going, the plane is going to land so—”

“No!” Instinctually, Black’s gloved-hand had grasped him. The next moment, he released him, a streak of red-embarrassment on his cheeks. “Er … I mean …”

Spencer stared, shocked, at the new member of the BAU. However, he sat back down and fastened his seatbelt, his eyes on the man in front of him. Black sent him a grateful look. He looked relieved to not face the landing by himself.

“Thank you Reid.”

Reid didn’t reply. He was questioning his behavior and feeling of familiarity on which he acted at the moment. A protective instinct of which he wasn’t aware of had awoke, an instinct that both seemed natural and strange.

What was happening to him?

Spencer sent a shocked look to the new BAU member. But, he sat back down again and put on his seatbelt, staring in the eyes of the man in front of him. Black sent him a grateful look. He looked relieved to not face the landing by himself.

**-CM-HP-CM-HP-**

_Stanford, California — On the way to the police station — 12th of January._

“So Spencer, I see that all is well with Black,” started JJ when they were alone in the van.

“Hm, did you know that by driving at a speed of a hundred miles per hour (161km/h), a car would take more than twenty-seven billion of years to reach the nearest star?” Spencer was so occupied in trying to think at something else than the agent in question, that he found again his habit to quote the first statistic that went though his head.

“No, I didn’t know that,” said JJ after bursting into laughter. “I’m glad that you are getting on well with him.”

“Me too, he … he reminds me of someone I knew.”

“Ah? Who?”

“I can’t really remember that well ….” And that’s the problem.

JJ looked surprised. After all, with an eidetic memory, _forgetting_ was nearly impossible. The rest of the journey was spent with periodical anecdotes on California, the university campus and the Fraternities. Agent Black wasn’t mentioned once.

**-CM-HP-CM-HP-**

_On the way to the campus — 12th of January._

Morgan and Prentiss have been driving for two minutes in the silence before Morgan declared, in an observing tone:

“I don’t like him.”

Prentiss didn’t need to ask who he was talking about, letting just an amused smile express what she was thinking, which only made the Metis growl. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, intensively focused  on the road, before showing his teeth at his friend who had finally abandoned all pretense of control and was laughing out loud. At that moment, Morgan’s telephone rang.

“Please, Baby Girl, cheer me up by proving that kindness still exists in the world!”, he said after Prentiss had answered and put it on speakers.

“I can do that and show you at the same time the sweetness and the love of a woman,” she chortled, “But why would my chocolate Apollo would need some cheering up?”

Before Prentiss had the time to answer, Morgan intervened: “Nothing, nothing. So, what do you have on Black?”

Garcia paused and started talking again, in an unusual serious tone. “We are dealing with something big, my sweets. I found the first file on Black like I thought it was, in the FBI data base. This guy is like a machine: cadet at sixteen, special agent at eighteen, promoted at twenty and apparently the favorite to be the Director of the service when the latter will be retiring! And that’s not all, he received a distinction from the White House and the Queen of England herself for, I quote, ‘having saved England and the world from the danger that jeopardize it.”

“Have we more information on the subject?” inquired Prentiss.

“And that’s where it’s get complicated, my chickies: Harry Black wasn’t named ‘Black’ ever since the year 1998, when he became agent of the FBI, and a part from the mention of the medal received that year in his professional file, all that concerns his past or his name is classified top secret of all top secrets!”

“I’m having trouble deciding if it some good or bad news,” declared Morgan, pensive. The agent’s accent was now explained, he must have spent many years in England.

“I think that we should stop there,” said Prentiss, uneasy. “I agreed to pierce the mystery of Black, because it seemed important to help Reid, but he and Black seem to have no problems between them now …”

“And I can certify that none of the cases that Black worked on with the other services have implicated our sweet doct—”

“You don’t understand.” Derek has never cut in when his Baby Girl when she spoke, not in this manner: cold, implacable. “There is something about him, you said yourself! We _must_ know what is happening.”

Morgan himself didn’t even realize that his antipathy against Black blinded him. He didn’t understand why but he needed to know what was between him and Reid. Morgan was telling himself that it was to protect his friend, but something else inside of him was pushing hime to continue his quest.

“Morgan, you know very well that I would follow you anywhere, but we risk uncovering things that Black doesn’t want us to find and I think that you alone know that some things are better left untouched,” told him gently the technician on the other end of the line, alluding to the Carl Buford case which revealed to the team the raped and abused childhood of Derek.

“Garcia, we’ll call you later,” finished Prentiss when she understood that Morgan would say nothing else.

The rest of the journey remained in silence.

**-CM-HP-CM-HP-**

_Stanford’s Campus, — 12 of January._

Harry didn’t like Derek. He really didn’t at all.

First of all, he was complaining that he was to young, then Harry was certain to have heard him mock his accent and finally, he was treating him like a child who needed to have his hand held and protected! Happily, Spencer’s presence calmed him, otherwise despite the metal surrounding the plane, the wizard would have tried a couple of jinxes on the arrogant profiler.

He had been surprised when Spencer had accosted him in the contraption. While Harry loved flying on a broom, the fact that being on a plane, incapable of doing magic (due to the metal and the technology in the machine) to save his miserable life in case there was a problem at a thousand meters from the ground, was making him nervous (but who wouldn’t be?). Strangely, hearing Spencer’s voice had the same effect as when he was a kid: it had calmed and reassured him, giving him the urge to run his hand in Reid’s hair, like when they were kids. Telling himself that Reid didn’t remember those moments where he had cheered him up, as well as the moments where they laughed and had had fun like any kids of their age, hurt him. But erasing Reid’s memory and his family had been for the good of the Wizarding Word.

 _Another friend sacrificed for the greater good,_ thought painfully the young Auror, thinking of Ron, Hermione and all of the others, dead to defeat Voldemort. All the rewards he had received, even those offered by the leaders of the Muggle World in the know about their existence, couldn’t erase the sour bile that was left after the death of his friends. No posthumous gratification couldn’t bring solace to the Boy-who-Lived.

He had changed in the back of the van while Hotch and Rossi finished anticipating the reunion with the staff. Good-bye agent of the FBI’s suit, hello young dynamic student! He had put on a midnight blue long-sleeved T-shirt and very tight jeans; he even added gel in his hair to make it lie backwards and added a few spikes to look more ‘en vogue’, exhibiting his old scar in the shape of a lightning bolt and the three vertical scars that were the vestige of Fenrir Greyback, leader of the werewolves allied to Voldemort.

Of course, he kept his precious black gloves, indisputable elements for his mental well-being. He may not be as talented as his nephew Teddy, who had the Metamorphmagus gene, but not everyone was an empath and Legilimens, et also, his transformation wasn’t to bad.

He left the two senior agent, promising to phone them later, a back-pack with a few clothes, his medication and his mobile as his only possessions. Since he worked in the USA, he used many times this device, even if it was always outside of the bureau, due to the spells in the Auror division, technology and electricity didn’t work at all.

His first stop was at the Kappa Pi house where the first murder had been committed. He lurked in the area, but he could gather no interesting information a part that the president was the type to party late at night and that everyone was very shocked by his death since he was well liked. He had the same speech for the two others. When he arrived at the fourth area where the crime was committed just three days ago, he felt something different.

The Tau Gamma Alpha were medical students, the type to party and to wake up in unusual unknown places the next day. That they were only the fourth targeted par the suspect was a miracle. Harry took the time to us Legilimency on some of the students who were loitering outside, collecting essential information on the fraternity to not be uncovered. He thanked his mother once again for the gift she gave him and entered the building … to find Prentiss and Morgan in the middle of an interrogation with the acting president, a student with short blond hair and blue eyes who looked ready to explode.

“And at what time did you find the body?”

“It was around eight. He was there, in the middle of the entry hall, like he had fainted after drinking to much,” The student shivered. “It was when I wanted to wake him that I understood he was dead and if we hadn’t heard about the other fraternities, I would have thought that it was a party that didn’t go well …”

“You mean to say that … that type of _incidents_ happens frequently?” Asked the female profiler with a disgusted look.

“Listen. University is the occasion for many to live our last years of freedom before finding a job 24/7. Some parties never did much harm …”

“We understand perfectly,” said the profiler with a peace sign. “I remember my own years at university, and the state I would come back,” he added with a smile. “The entry hall is frequently unoccupied?”

The strategy of the good cop bad cop was old as the world, but it always worked since the student calmed down and answered:

“That depends on the days, generally there is always someone, especially the days where we are holding a party.”

“And the night of the murder?”

“Night at the Nu Kappa Chi.”

Morgan and Prentiss noted the information before taking their leave while asking him to contact them if someone remembered something. They passed by Harry who looked at them with feint curiosity.  He observed the Prentiss’ look, slightly wide-eyed at his sight, but he ignored it in favor of the new Tau Gamma president. As if he done it all his life, Harry extended his hand and shook the hand of the student the same way he saw in the minds of those outside thanks to Legilimency.

_A secret handshake? Really … At least at Hogwarts we had a secret password!_

“Hey man, I’ve never seen you hear!” The blond told him.

“I’m James. I’ve just arrived on the campus but I’m part of the Tau Gamma of Denver. I’ve come to support the fraternity in these difficult times. Say, who were they?”

“Oh, some FBI agents, they’re asking questions about Chris’ murder. My name is Sam, by the way, the … the replacing president of the Tau Gamma.3

“My condolences for Chris, Sam. Life’s a bitch, eh?” Said Harry with a scowl. He didn’t need to fake the tone, the bitterness was there naturally.

“I wouldn’t have said it better, James. You are staying in area for long?”

“Just a couple of days, can you lodge me? If I’m bothering, I can go to the motel near the entry of the campus, I—”

“I’ll do anything for a brother of the Tau Gamma Alpha,” Sam interrupted him, a small sad smile on his lips.

The blond guided him to the staircases before freezing at a certain point, the look fixed on the ground. Harry put a hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. Sam shook his head.

“That was where I … found Chris’s body.”

“Would you like to talk about it? It may be easier to talk to me, I’m a complete stranger and you have nothing to fear, apart from the fact that I am a Tau Gamma Alpha,” joked gently Harry. Thanks to Legilimency, the wizard wormed in Sam’s thoughts, bringing forward the memories of that specific morning to the front to encourage the discussion.

“I can still see it in my head,” _No, that would be my fault, sorry …_ “He was laying there, turning his back to me, his boxer wet of piss. Insults were written on his body, not really degrading things you know, more like things we write down to humiliate the hazed, with a lipstick … and I laughed. I laughed, shit! When I touched him, he was … he was …”

“Don’t worry, Sam. They will catch that bastard that did this,” Harry comforted him, in a very manly manner so that his new friend didn’t feel uncomfortable. Said person smiled faintly.

“Thanks dude. Come on, I have a free space in my room ever since …,” he paused. “It doesn’t bother you sleeping in Chris’ bed?”

“No problem with me. Wait, what is that?” Asked the Auror while passing by a calendar filled with notes.

“The Party Calendar of course! You don’t have that at Denver?” At Sam’s frowning eyebrows, Harry felt that he made a mistake. He forced himself to laugh out loud before slapping the other’s back.

“Dude, I didn’t recognize it! One’s thing for sure, some of our Tau Gamma Alpha brothers are already practicing a doctor’s illegible necessary handwriting!” He was relieved when Sam laughed as well, describing here and there some of the previous parties and those that would be awesome in the weeks to come. That was close. Harry’s attention was on the calendar, trying to follow his new friend. In vain. Suddenly, Harry swore.

“Merlin’s balls! Why didn’t I see this earlier?”

“Woah? What was that, James?”

“Er … A party at the Zeta Beta Zeta?” He said, indicating the first thing that was under his finger on the calendar. Sam winked at him.

“Yeah, dude. I don’t know about Denver, but here, the Zeta Beta Zeta is a sorority whose members are only the most sexy babes! Hooray for next week!”

Harry pretended to nod his head with an air of enthusiasm and let himself guided by Sam to his room to put his stuff away. But he had only one idea stuck in his head now: to dig further his initial theory and then phone the team to share his discovery.

**-CM-HP-CM-HP-**

_Police Station — 12th of January_

At seven p.m, the profilers had regrouped to analyze the photos of the scene of the crime together and established a preliminary profile which would lead tomorrow to the profile that they would present to the local authorities and campus security. Morgan seemed to have some difficulties to concentrate, to preoccupied at observing Reid to see how he was.

“We find every time the same inscriptions in the same places, always in lipstick, our suspect is obsessed by a specific ritual,” Noted Reid, totally ignorant of the visual surveillance of his friend.

“The motif of ecchymosis on the forearms, wrists and torso suggest that he restrained them with the help of ropes, our suspect must be restraining them while forcing them to drink alcohol with a funnel until they fell in an ethyl coma and suffocate on their own vomit. We found in their blood an important dose of drugs, surely to control them and to be able to attach them. Our suspect must be suffering from a physical handicap or has a fragile constitution. The drugs are, unfortunately, easily obtainable with a doctor’s order in any drugstore.” Completed Hotch.

“None of the students talked about a stranger or a weird man in the area of the murders, proving that the suspect is familiar with the area, so familiar that he can be unnoticed.” Continued Prentiss.

“The university has organized rounds with the local police, but I fear that it won’t be enough: our suspect may not be very intelligent, but he is methodical and organized. He won’t be easily caught on his turf.” Said Rossi while frowning.

“What does the geographical profile give us?” Demanded Hotch to Reid.

“No discernible patterns has appeared, our victims don’t appear to be chosen by their fraternities. They must have a common  pattern other than the fact that they were all presidents …”

Morgan’s phone rang. _Finally a distraction!_ He thought while answering. He needed to hear his Baby Girl’s voice and to especially take the chance to ask forgiveness his previous behavior.

“Good evening, light of my nights, what do you have for me?” He said after putting it on speaker.

“ … Well then, agent Morgan, proposition on the telephone now?” Answered an amused agent Black who was enjoying the fact that Morgan had just humiliated himself publicly. In the background Garcia was chuckling like there was no tomorrow.

“Mmh … My chocolate Apollo with the dark warriors of modern times …  Make wave ladies!” He heard her clearly declare between two chuckles. She was joined by JJ and Prentiss whom seemed to agree, while he, like Black, were grumbling. At least, despite their mutual animosity, they seem to agree on one point.

“So Black, what do you have?” Enquired Hotch, ending the torture of the two male agents

“I’ve discovered as to how our suspects chooses his victims: on the party calendar of the fraternities, we can see that each night a body was discovered, there was a party at the Nu Kappa Chi!”

“The suspect is part of the fraternity?” asked out loud Rossi.

“I don’t think so.” Black told him. “Since a student here pointed out to me that the marks on the body of his friend reminded him of the hazing period that the students desiring entering a fraternity must pass.”

“Most people consider hazing as a rite of passage.” Reid informed them. He seemed more at ease with agent Black that he dared interrupt him. “However, many of them consider it like free barbary and humiliation, since, contrary to a true rite of passage, it isn’t adults that do it to the young, but the young that are forcing the even younger.”

“We can also add the fact that it doesn’t pass the young to the state of adult, but only at a transitory state of a student, without a contribution of knowledge or teaching.” Finished the voice on the phone.

Maybe agent Black and Reid were made to get along after all.

“And you went to see these famous Nu Kappa Chi, I presume? By the way, your hair slicked backwards suits you really well.” Declared Prentiss with a natural ease. Morgan’s eyes grew wide at the comment. How did she know that?

Black had a small laugh. “Well, well, Prentiss! You were the only one to recognize me today! Apparently, one of the tests of the hazing of our dear Nu is to put the hazed in their underway, write insults on their bodies and make them drink until they puke.”

“See if the suspect used the same method to kill, if it it of a particular importance for him.” Said Hotch. “Garcia, are there any articles concerning the Nu Kappa Chi on the subject?

“I’m checking … There is one article on the subject twenty years ago: a hazing that went south and led to a student loosing his scholarship.”

“Nothing else?”

“No, apparently the student had to abandon his studies after the accident.”

“Garcia, I want you to select in the list of every man over thirty-eight who had studied at Stanford’s university and who stopped or changed course.” Hotch demanded her.

“I have … two hundred and four names!”

“Filter your research on the people who had a sport scholarship, the Nu Kappa Chi have a reputation for their sport students and engineer students, but seeing that the student abandoned, we should concentrate on the sportsmen.” Said Rossi.

“A hundred and thirteen names.” Finished Garcia after a few clicks on her keyboard.

“And among them, try to see if there was a divorce or the death of a close one during the last five months.” Indicating Morgan. He had finally regained composure, but in the back of his mind, he was trying to remember when Prentiss could have seen Black.

“That makes thirty-eight names, my dears!”

“Perfect, Garcia, I would like you to send us the list. Black, do you think you are capable to learn more about this accident, twenty years ago?”

“I will try to be … _persuasive_. But what worries me most is that the Nu Kappa Chi are organizing a party —” Black paused for time before continuing with a complete change of tone. He was suddenly more joyful, more carefree and Morgan realized just how young it made him, even with just his voice. “And yeah guys, a party at the Zeta Beta Seta, all costs payed by our brothers in Stanford, I’m betting that you are all green of envy in your poor little Colorado, eh? Oh, you’re there, Sam? I’m coming right away! I’m just finishing revolting them by telling them about the _deadly_ party tomorrow night at the _Nu Kappa Chi_! See you Tau Gamma Alpha, try to have fun without me, but if there is a problem, don’t hesitate to call!” And he hung up.

“That was …” Started JJ, impressed in front of the acting talents of the young agent. Morgan pursed  his lips. He may not appreciate him, but Black had given them very useful information.

“Agent Black has just communicated a small timeframe to us. If the killer is in a psychological breakdown, he will kill again tomorrow. If we don’t apprehend him, he won’t be able to use the parties as a way to find his victims and it will be even more difficult to catch him. We will communicate the profile early tomorrow and prepare for the night.” Hotch informed them.

Garcia wished them a good night shortly after. Hotch declared that it was time to go eat and they found themselves in a local restaurant where everyone ordered what they wanted. The conversation was centered on the case until the moment where Morgan decided to spice things up a bit.

“So Hotch, from where do you know Black?”

Everybody, excluding Rossi who had a small scornful smile, looked interested, so well that Hotch was forced to answer.

“The Special Affaires were always a curious department, we know very little about them apart that they fight against a particular brand of terrorists, that there agents are recruited individually and that they follow extra lessons during their formation in the Academy. One of the terrorists was notably the reason of the troubles in England about ten years ago, but was neutralized by their service.”

 _Black’s reward in 98 must be linked,_ reasoned Morgan.

“But it happens that for the more sensitive affairs, we ask for their help to intervene. In 2000, we had been confronted by killer sniper in Seattle, who had been posted in a building and had filled it with enough explosive to destroy everything in a two hundred meter radius. He had threatened to explode everything if certain people haven’t presented themselves on a platform in front of the building and that we don’t warn the population. I was part of the hostages with Rossi, the chief of police and other figure of the city, at the mercy of the killer.”

“Typical for a narcissistic personality, but extremely rare in snippers.” Remarked Prentiss.

Hotch agreed with a nod before continuing: “Agent Black succeeded in evacuating discretely the square and kept us in the loop about the progress about his team in the building. The sniper had been neutralized by his team in a few minutes.” Their unit chef had this vague satisfied expression before it changed into a frown when Rossi intervened to add something to the anecdote.

“And all of this while looking like a pregnant woman. What Hotch didn’t say was that he practically dragged ‘her’ away from the platform while reprimanding ‘her’ for putting the life of ‘her baby’ in danger! In his defense, Black made a very convincing pregnant woman …” Everybody burst into laughter while the unit chef rolled his eyes at the old profiler. But Rossi wasn’t finished with Hotch. ‘After that, when they caught the sniper, he threw himself at him —well at the moment, it was a _her_ — to protect ‘them’! Black gushed at him, calling Hotch ‘her hero’ until the team of the Special Affairs came to join us to confirm the situation. I must admit that wasn’t so surprised that the beautiful young pregnant woman identified ‘herself’ as agent _Harry_ Black!”

That would explain the scene in the plane a little while again. Hotch looked slightly ashamed, but kept a dignified air even if the others were laughing at his expenses. Finally, Morgan thought he saw the ghost of a smile on the lips of his superior once the laughters had calmed down.

“It’s true that it’s better to mistake him as an intern and asked him for coffee … and his phone number.” Rossi coughed in his napkin to hide his embarrassment, but gave and amused smile at Hotch that was saying ‘I was seven years younger and a libido that liked to flirt with what I thought was a defenseless intern’. Morgan had a horrifying shiver at imagining Harry Black being flirted with the agent who had justified the rule against fraternization between agents of the FBI … However, he would have never believed that a catholic Italian like Rossi would try a homosexual relationship. You learn something new everyday. “ … or to dress his profile after entering his office just in front of him.” Derek and Prentiss grew restless, while JJ turned towards them to demand more details to the story.

_When Hotch wants retribution, he could be dangerous…_

“He came many times to the Bureau for interviews, and we have met during a hostage situation in Washington, three years ago. He was the leader of the intervention team. His work was exemplary.” Finished Hotch, estimating that his colleagues deserved some additional information.

“Gideon was very interested  in Black.” Spoke calmly Reid. Morgan looked at him, surprised. Reid usually avoided talking about his mentor whom had abandoned them. That he only quoted him showed progress that he accepted his leaving.

“But I don’t understand what an agent of the Special Affairs is doing here.” Declared  Morgan, crossing his arms. He was suspicious. Harry Black was more than he appeared to be, the Metis had this inexplicable urge to discover the story behind the scars, the reason for the shadows that were in his eyes. But especially, he felt this urge to growl at the young man and to force him to stifle that arrogant smile from his face.

And if it was by fists … Well the better.

“Strauss hasn’t given us any explanation, but Black has expressed the desire to learn our techniques in profiling a moment ago. He is rather gifted in gathering information and interrogations, that it was I heard. He wants to improve in that domaine.”

Hotch’s explanation didn’t totally satisfy Morgan, but he will be content. For now.

They talked a bit more (Morgan asked Prentiss when had they crossed path with Black and was surprised to learn that he was a student they met during their visit to the second fraternity), then finished their dinner and separated to go to sleep. Just before entering his room, Morgan was called over by Hotch.

“Morgan, it has come to my attention that you have a certain animosity towards Black.”

 _I don’t like him, he’s hiding something concerning Reid and my instincts are warning me to be on garde about him._ “Not everyone appreciates everybody, Hotch.” In normal circumstances, Morgan would have restrained himself from talking that way to his superior, but Black seem to bring out the worse in him.

Hotch kept a stoic face, but his jaws clenched noticeably. “I had the same reaction as you did when I met these agents for the first time, Morgan, but I am now used to the idea that we can’t know everything. Don’t condemn someone because they won’t or _can’t_ share their secrets. Don’t condemn your carrier.”

“Good night Hotch.”

**-CM-HP-CM-HP-**

_The Tau Gamma Alpha’s dormitory, Chris’ and Sam’s room — 13th of January, very early in the morning._

“And did you take your pills? Black, tell me that you taken your pills or I will scorch you alive and will leave you to Steve!”

Draco’s voice was even more disagreeable on the phone, but his authority was even more reinforced. The pills in question were potions altered to a more Muggle form that Harry was taking for years. During his months of torture, certain of his nerves had been damaged. He had recovered to full health, but his body would make him suffer from time to time. The pills prevented that pain. It was Draco who had invented the technique to hide the potions in these sort of harmless, in the eyes of Muggles, gelcaps. The idea was genius, but the Auror would never tell his friend. Draco’s ego wouldn’t survive and he would only hear him talk about that. Harry sighed deeply, taking his time to answer the blond on the other end of the line only to annoy him.

“Yes mama Draco, I took my pills like every night! You don’t need to threaten me for that, especially with Steve.” Mumbled the Auror. The perspective to spend time with Steve was more horrible than the idea to be skinned alive. Steve Tradi was one of the Aurors that had contested Harry’s promotion and was a complete jackass. When he wasn’t mocking the competency of the young wizard, it was to flirt outrageously with him. The worse was that he was a good Auror, even if he had a horrible personality, at least for Harry.

“And your new colleagues? Are they interesting?”

“The great Draco Black deems himself worthy to preoccupy himself about Muggles, how shocking!” Draco sniffed in a condensing air. Even on the telephone, Harry could figure out the face he was making. “I had already worked with two of them, so I’m doing ok.”

_And there is this guy that I can’t stand and that I will certainly break a limb if he doesn’t stop antagonizing me._

That wouldn’t be very diplomatic of him, but by Merlin, that would relieve him greatly! “I am still asking myself why we have been assigned to these services.” He thought out loud.

“Apparently, the Ministry fear that the criminals escaped from Azkaban could be implicated in the Muggle world. Imagine the headlines: ‘Inexplicable murders! The BAU believe the use of _magic_! Does a Wizarding World exist?’ ”

“At least I’m not the only one in this situation. Have you news about the others?”

“Because I telephone you, Black, doesn’t mean that I worry about the fate of the others.” His dear blond friend told in a nauseated voice.

“Aww, am I a special case then? I’m touched Draco!”

“If that helps you sleep, Black!” He said with the same quality of voice as ‘Shut up!’ “Parker believes that it would only take a couple of months, the time it takes to round up the most dangerous Dark Wizards. Until then … Where are you sleeping?”

“With a student on the campus where our case if.”

“A student, Black? You like them inexperienced? Oh, I forgot! To know that, you would actually need a sexual life!”

Black growled. It was a subject in which Draco didn’t stop tormenting him about it. With the appearance of his special capacities, Harry was incapable in having a serious relationship. Sex implicated a total abandon, which his empathy-by-contact didn’t allow unless for some very rare occasions, generally in brief and hardly gratifying one night stands. He had tried to build a more platonic relation before allowing himself to lower his Occlumency shields, but his partner proved himself unfaithful, which Harry had discovered this with an instinctive Legilimency. Since then, his best friend was his right hand. That was about a year ago now.

“The only thing that keeps me in this world is the hope that, one day, one of the women with whom you fuck with will stab you in your sleep …”

“As for me, that you finally do the man of your dreams.”

“What an excellent idea! Hmm Draco, what don’t you apparate here so that we can have a bit of fun together? I don’t need to worry, I know _exactly_ what your feelings are towards me, it will be only sex, I promise!” His joke was hiding the horror that he felt at Draco’s idea. Difficult to imagine the man of your dreams when your nights were filled with nightmare of the war ten years ago.

“Touché, Black.” Draco grimaced, apparently feeling a spike of guilt by understanding Harry’s train of thoughts. But he didn’t try to make him acknowledge it. That was the reason that they were so close. They had learned to know each other in the worst of circumstances, they were linked by something that few could know unless they had lived through the terror of the war and the horror of torture.

“Thanks”. Harry voiced without specifying as to what he was thanking him. Draco understood. “Good night Draco.”

“Good night Black, and don’t forget to —”

“— take my pills!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I'm finished! After such a long time, I thank you for your patience. Updates will be taking time, but less than the three or more months of waiting than this one.
> 
> Hope that you liked it and don't forget to leave a review for Markhal, the most brilliant writer and original creator of this story!


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